


Bad shot

by okayylmaocomputer97



Category: Moral Orel
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Clay shoots Orel in the chest instead of the knee, Guilt, Nature AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okayylmaocomputer97/pseuds/okayylmaocomputer97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clay shoots Orel in the chest instead of the knee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad shot

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolute shit but I just really wanted to write this AU. I usually plan my stories out and sometimes even chart them, but I was in a rush to write this before I ran out of motivation to do so. Enjoy.

“Don’t you “ _but_ ” me!”

_BANG_

Clay watched, expressionless, as his son cried out before toppling down onto the ground.He sat there, stunned. Did that really just happen? He glanced down at his rifle and saw his own finger on the trigger. Yes, it did. He just shot his own son.

Clay felt what any good father would - fear. Was Orel okay? He hauled himself up from his seat on the log and dropped his rifle, quickly running over to see the damage done.

Orel lay there, flat on his back with his arms spread out. His eyes were wide and a trickle of blood dribbled from his mouth, rolling down his chin. A bright red splotch of blood seeped into his shirt on the left side of his chest, right above his heart. He was dead, an instant kill.

The world seemed to fade away from Clay. The droning of the cicadas melted away into a soft static. The world around them disappeared, leaving Orel to be the only thing he saw. His knees buckled underneath him and he dropped onto the ground.

“ _Clay, what did you_ do?”

A wave of nausea overwhelmed Clay and he gagged multiple times, placing a hand on his forehead, which he vaguely noted was suddenly extremely sweaty. His head spun and he groaned in pain as pure, utter self-loathing filled him from head to toe.

“Why?” He hissed to himself as he gently placed a hand under Orel’s head, lifting it up to get a closer look at his son’s face. “Why did I shoot him?”

He honestly didn’t know. Yes, he was drunk, and his temper was short when drunk. Orel had been annoying him all day but shooting his own child was unacceptable. Clay bit down on his tongue, and desperately tried to think of what to do through his clouded, intoxicated mind.

First-aid wouldn’t do anything. Orel was dead. Stone cold dead, all because of him.

“Oh god,” he whispered, completely devastated. What was he supposed to do now? How was he going to tell Bloberta or Daniel or the Reverend? What would they think when they saw him dragging out a fucking corpse from their car and explaining that this was all his doing? Clay felt hot tears roll down his cheeks. He ran a thumb over Orel’s cheek.

“Forgive me,” he whispered in a shaky voice. “Forgive me, Orel. I’m so sorry,” he gave a broken sob.

_I hate myself._


End file.
